The Truth
by Tmae3114
Summary: He might have left his time behind, but the memories are still with him. Nightmares plague Bart, nightmares of everything he's lost, and Blue Beetle convinces his friend to tell everyone the truth in hopes that it'll help the time traveller. But will it? Or will it just push him even further away? Set about a week after 'Before the Dawn'
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own Young Justice, simple as that. I also don't own Alex Rider which is alluded to in this chapter. Although I am having an interesting internal debate over whether Bart or Alex has more internal angst...**

**_Bold Italics _**is a nightmare or memory.

* * *

**_A figure stumbling, then tripping and falling; a groan of pain. Rushing to their side to help. Urging them to get up, to not shut their eyes. _**

"No..."

**_"Wally! Wally, wake up! Don't leave me Wally! I need you! Wake up! Wake up! Don't you dare leave! WALLY!"_**

Bart Allen jerked up in his bed, sweat pouring down his face. His eyes darted around at super speed and he continued vibrating in fear. He forced himself to calm down enough so that he wouldn't accidently set the bed on fire(again). He groaned and slumped back, his head hitting the pillow. He dragged a hand down his face before breathing deeply and flinging the covers off of his still partially trembling body. He stood up and walked, at normal speed, to the bathroom, opening the door and turning on the sink splashing cold water onto his face and relishing the feeling. Clutching the side of the sink for support, Bart looked at himself in the mirror. His own silver eyes stared back at him, in his same sullen face. He'd put on some weight while he was here, so he was an average-ish weight for his age in this time, but the signs of so much neglect were still there. It was amazing how Nightwing hadn't noticed it. Robin was probably still somewhat new to the hero gig so he wouldn't noticed small detail immediately, but Nightwing should've.  
Unless, he had and wasn't saying anything?

**_"WALLY!"_**

He clutched the sink again, tears making their tracks down his cheeks and dripping into the basin. When he lost Wally...that was the last time he had cried. Waste of moisture...nothing to cry over anyways, not after losing him; the last person in his family.  
He sniffled and wiped away the tears splashing water on his face again and rubbing it roughly with the towel.  
Legs shaking Bart made his way back to his bed and sat on the edge, supporting his head in his hands, burying his face into them.

It had been a week since the rescue, and he'd succeeded in another part of his mission, but the nightmares were becoming more and more frequent. Most often of losing Wally or...the day he last saw his father and Aunt Dawn (not Auntie...he'd grown out of that a long time ago...) or sometimes, even the distant memory of his mother.

**_"DON'T LEAVE ME!"_**

**_"BART! RUN!"_**

**_"LEAVE HIM ALONE! HE'S ONLY A CHILD! I'LL GO WITH YOU IF YOU LEAVE HIM!"_**

His body started shaking with sobs again. He couldn't do this, he just _couldn't_. All the loss, in the future it had been a dulled, throbbing hurt, surviving until the next day was always more important, and then his mission to the past.  
But now...he could see Granddad Barry and Granny Iris often, and his Dad and Aunt Dawn weren't born yet and Wally..._Wally was alive._ It hurt so much seeing them, dragging up so many memories yet making him happy at the same time. The once dulled, throb was now a burning, piercing, searing pain, ripping through his heart and mind, making him see for the first time the magnitude of everything he had lost.

**_"Where did they take them? My dad and Auntie Dawn? Where are they?"_**

**_"I don't know kiddo...I don't know..."_**

**_"I never...I never even...even got to...to say goodbye!"_**

**_"WALLY! DON'T DIE ON ME! WAKE UP! NO! DON'T MAKE ME LEAVE HIM! WALLY!"_**

He sobbed again, his hands moving from his face to his bed to hold himself where he was. He heard footsteps and the Garricks came in, sitting beside him, comforting him, but for the wrong thing. They thought, everyone but Jaime thought, that the nightmares were about his time with the Reach. He'd faced so much worse than that on a daily basis, the electricity was something he was almost used to. It was everything else that gave him nightmares, all the loss, the grief, the pain. He'd buried it all away and now that he was in the past, when everything was _right_, it just made it all so much _worse_.

* * *

The doorbell was ringing. That was the first thing Jaime realised when he woke up. Then abruptly it stopped and it was quiet again. He scrambled out of bed and rushed down the stairs. _'When the doorbell rings at three in the morning, it's never good news'_ was the first sentence in a book he had started reading recently and, as he glanced at a clock on the way down the stairs, he decided it was absolutely right.  
He turned the corner to find Bart leaning against the wall, in his uniform, tears stains drying on the speedsters cheeks. His mind shut down for a second because _hello_ _speedster-best-friend-from-the-future in his house and three o'clock in the morning! _Evidently he had just _vibrated_ through the front door rather than waiting.

He seemed to notice Jaime then and looked up with a small, sad smile on his face.

"Hey Jaime..." he said, his voice barely a whisper.  
"Sorry 'bout just vibrating in and stuff, but I didn't want to wake anyone and I wasn't really sure where else to come since nobody else knows the truth..."

Oh, so that was it.  
"Nightmares again?" he asked. The speedster nodded, a few stray tears trekking down his cheeks again. Jaime sighed.

"You can't keep this up forever Bart, you know someone'll figure it out eventually," he said, guiding the shaking speedster to the couch in the living room.

"I _have_ to though Blue," Bart insisted "for as long as I can...they like me a bit now, or at least they like the Mask..." Jaime shut his eyes and shook his head. He'd been trying to get through to Bart since they were rescued, once he saw the toll the nightmares were starting to take. His grasp on his mask was slipping and one day he'd lose that grip completely, all the trust he'd earned going with it. That'd tear the boy from the future apart more than anything else.

"Hot chocolate?" Jaime asked and he received a stiff nod. A few minutes later found the two of them sitting side by side on the couch, a mug of hot chocolate each.

"Bart, you need to tell the others eventually and sooner would be better than later. Nobody can keep up a lie this scale forever," he insisted. Bart tightened the grip he had on the mug.

"I have to Blue, they know the Mask, and I want them to know the hyperactive tourist...it makes it easier for everyone..." he mumbled.

"No it doesn't Bart, it makes it _harder_ on _you_," Jaime replied "the only reason you told me is because if you didn't then those loco extranjeros would've gotten to me. You need to trust someone Bart,"

"I don't want them to know the closed-off, serious, jaded little _slave boy_, then they'd _pity_ me…" Bart replied, looking up to his friend.

"I don't _need_ or_ want_ their pity…"

"But if your secret comes out, and you don't tell them willingly, it'll tear down their trust for you, how do you trust someone when everything they've told you is a lie?" Jaime asked, looking Bart in the eye. He hated having to be so harsh, but it seemed that the only way he was going to get through to Bart was doing so. The speedster opened his mouth to protest, but the words seemed to die in his throat. He closed his eyes and looked away for a second. Echoes of an old conversation came to the young speedster, dragging him back(or was it forwards?) in time.

**_"It was the secrets really, that's what caused it in the end," an aged man said, looking at the young boy next to him after delivering his load. As the two turned to go collect yet another one, the boy looked at him in confusion._**

**_"Wha'd'ya mean Wally? How could secrets cause all _****this?****_" Bart asked, gesturing wildly to the destroyed and ashen landscape around them._**

**_"We just had too many of them and it tore us apart, the Reach took advantage of that and exploited it. Ultimately we fell, because we couldn't trust each other," Wally explained, sighing his eyes far off as he remembered happier times._**

Bart looked back to Jaime eventually and sighed.

"Okay, you win Blue, I'll...I'll tell everyone tomorrow, at the Hall of Justice..." he submitted, finishing off his hot chocolate.

"Anyways, I've gotta go, I need to get back to the Garrick's before they notice that I'm missing," he said, standing up. He gave a small smile to his best friend before speeding out the living room, down the hallway, vibrating through the front door and zooming off.

Rubbing his eyes, Jaime put the two empty mugs beside the sink before trudging back up the stairs to his bed. It wasn't until he lay down that he realised the Scarab hadn't said a word.

* * *

**So...um...you've probably read my one-shot 'Pain' right? Well, even after getting that plot bunny out, the basic idea of it wouldn't leave me alone so I wrote this. It'll definatley have a minimum of one more chapter, maybe even more depending on how long the planned chapter/s end up being...**

**So, how did I do?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Young Justice isn't mine. That's probably a good thing. It'd have gone crazy a long time ago if I owned it.**

* * *

Bart lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling. He still couldn't sleep, not after the nightmare. He'd be telling everyone tomorrow. He glanced at the digital clock on his bedside table. The red numbers flashed back at him: **6:15  
**Well, not tomorrow. Technically today. But it was easier to think tomorrow.

Memories dragged up by the nightmare were still clattering around his skull. Both those good...and bad.

**_"That's you, and me, and Mummy" _** his own voice echoed. This was one of the few good memories. He remembered that drawing. **_"An' that's granny and granddad and Auntie Dawn and Wally! That's green grass and a big blue sky like in your stories!"  
_**It was amazing really, he mused, that even in an apocalyptic future, children would still draw the sky as a big block of colour above the rest of the drawing.  
Or maybe that had just been him, he'd never seen what other children had drawn.

**_"Wally? What do I do if the collar ever comes off?" _**his voice asked. A neither here nor there memory, though it leaned more towards good because Wally was in it.

**_"Bart, if that collar ever comes off, you need to run as fast as you can,"_**

**_"As fast as I can?"_**

**_ "Yeah, and as far as you can as well,"_**

**_"Okay Wally!"_**

Bart snorted slightly. He had certainly done that. He was as far away from that place as it was probably possible to get.  
He sat up and turned the pillow over before lying down on it again, enjoying the coolness it pressed against his head.  
He stared up at the ceiling for a while more. He glanced at the clock again after what seemed like an eternity. **6:20 **it blinked back at him.

He sighed. The super speed thing was still new to him, which meant he was still having trouble adjusting his perspective on time. That brought back a memory of when he was younger, carrying loads back to the Reach along with Wally. The elder speedster had been grumbling about days going by too quickly, about how time was moving too fast. At the time he hadn't understood. But he did now. When you're a speedster, time moves much slower.

It occurred to him then how much more difficult the first few weeks or months with the inhibitor must have been for his cousin, time suddenly speeding up without the use of his powers.

Even more reason to change the future.

The barren, desolate future. The future where teamwork outside of families was forgotten by most. Where surviving to the next day was the biggest worry of anyone, any age.

**_He looked around, wondering where the new arrivals were. People came to the site sometimes, moved from others or newly captured.  
Like he had been.  
He saw a youthful looking woman with red hair, supporting an elderly woman who looked older than Wally.  
To his surprise, his cousin ran over to the two immediately. Bart followed after him, not liking to be left alone. Once there, the elderly woman looked to him. Her eyes were a bit like Wally's, he decided, they still held that spark that his cousin had.  
Wally placed a hand on his shoulder._**

**_"Bart, this is Lian and Jade," Wally said quietly._**

**_"Jade? Like Artemis's sister?" Bart asked, looking up to his cousin with wide eyes. Wally had told him about Artemis recently, and her sister Jade. _**

**_"Yeah," the elderly woman rasped._**

**_"Artemis's sister,"_**

Jade hadn't stayed around much longer. He remembered Wally looking weird for days after that, and Lian sticking with them with a tear stained face. He tried to remember the last time he saw Lian. He couldn't remember exactly when, but she had been moved to a different camp at some point. He had missed her, and Wally had too.

Bart sighed once again, something he had found himself doing a lot of these days, and rolled over onto his side in bed. He curled up slightly, an old habit to conserve body heat, and closed his eyes.

Maybe he could get _some_ sleep before he had to get to the Hall of Justice.

Maybe.

* * *

Blue Beetle sighed as he scanned the area again, both with his eyes and the armour. Still no sign of Bart. He knew that the Flash was notorious for being late even with his superpowers, but he was fairly certain that Bart hadn't inherited that ability.

_Such an ability would not be passed down through genetics. It is highly illogical._ The scarab inputted. Although the scarab hadn't given any comments the night before, it was certainly making up for lost time now. Jaime resisted the urge to snap at it that he _knew_ it wasn't a genetics thing and ignored the comment, choosing to look again instead.

He'd lost count of the number of times he had looked for an approaching blur that would indicate the speedster. The rest of the team were waiting inside, as were Jay and Joan Garrick, The Flash, Iris and Wally, but Jaime had insisted on waiting outside for his friend.

_It is highly likely that the speedster has decided not to come through fear. I believe the term used is 'chickened out'? _the scarab said.

"Did you just make a joke?" Jaime asked quietly, slightly in disbelief. The scarab didn't answer. He shook his head. _The scarab_ making _jokes_. If the Reach had managed to do anything to it, it definitely wasn't fixing its programming. He highly doubted that making jokes was part of their ideal 'slave driver of humanity' Blue Beetle. He shuddered slightly when he remembered _that_ particular detail of Bart's past (or would it be his future?)

He looked, once again, for any sign of his friend approaching. He was awarded with an incoming blur. It was getting slower the closer it got and Jaime knew that Bart was trying to safely decelerate so that he could stop without crashing into something. As it was, the speedster had to run a lap around the Hall of Justice before he'd slowed down enough.

"So, why'd you decide to run?" was the first thing he thought to ask Bart when he came over. He had received a phone call at home that morning to inform him that Impulse would be running to the Hall of Justice and to tell the others.

"Needed to see you first. You need to tell them about the scarab," Bart replied.

"What? Why?" Jaime asked, not bothering to hide the surprise in his voice. It wasn't a defensive surprise, Bart's comment had jsut caught him off guard.

_Recall your words last night Jaime Reyes _the scarab said.

"'But if your secret comes out, and you don't tell them willingly, it'll tear down their trust for you, how do you trust someone when everything they've told you is a lie?'" Bart quoted.  
"The scarab is an essential part of what happened in my time as well," he paused for a moment before tilting his head slightly and looking at him questioningly "the scarab just told you that too, didn't it?"

"Sort of," he replied with a shrug.

"So, you will tell them, right?" Bart asked.

"Yeah, it's only fair for me to give up my secret when you're giving up yours. Superboy already knows about it being an AI anyways,"

If Bart had been Impulse, he would've shown surprise, but at that moment in time, he wasn't. Bart Allen was simply Bart Allen, not the mask he had created.

"So, in we go?" he asked his friend.

"In we go," Jaime agreed.

* * *

**Okay, so first off, sorry that I didn't have everyone's reactions this chapter. I don't know why but it's really hard to write them. I'm working on it.  
As it is, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and it lived up to your expectations. If it didn't, I'm sorry.**

**Thank you for all the positive feedback! Getting these guys in character is something that I've been worrying about, because I really want to make this a good fanfiction. If I don't...well I tried right? But still, knowing that people have read this and taken the time to leave feedback means a lot to me!  
Thank you again!**


	3. Chapter 3

Bart felt nervous; very, _very_ nervous. And possibly afraid. He had tried to get some sleep before he had to show up at the Hall of Justice; the key word being _tried._ Despite the fact that he had tossed and turned for ages –well minutes, half an hour maybe, but that was ages to a speedster- and had even tried pacing around the room, sleep just hadn't come.  
While Impulse only had nightmares while he could actually _sleep_, Bart Allen was bothered by memories of his past (future?) all hours of the day; though they had more of a tendency to surface at night when the mask had fallen from his face and he was himself again, and had time to stop and think about things.

Now he was standing in front of the Team, who had accepted him, Granddad Barry and Granny Iris, the Garricks, who had taken him in when he had nowhere to stay, and... his gaze drifted to the last person slowly. It was hard to believe that the young man sitting at the table was his cousin, the same person who had raised him since he was four, who had sheltered him from the worst of the Reach until he was twelve, who had hugged him close and let him cry every time that grim reality crashed down on him again.  
His face was younger, because it had never aged; the worry and weariness that he had tried so hard to hide gone, because he had never gone through the events that led to it. His hair was still the bright shade of orange he had been told about so many times but had never actually seen, because he had never reached the age where it greyed.  
The only thing he actually recognised were his eyes, and even they weren't the same; they were still the luminous green that he had once heard his father compare to a Green Lantern's power ring in one of his stories, and they still held that bright spark that had made him never give up hope; the spark that had made him trust him in the first place, back when he was four, the spark that let him recognise his cousin, the spark that had always given him and the others who knew him hope - "**_...and his eyes always sparkled, no matter what he went through. They were like two bright lanterns that could never be turned off, revealing light where others saw darkness,"_** his father had once told him – but they didn't have the recognition or the care that he had been so accustomed to seeing.

It was those eyes that made him hope that _his cousin_ was still in that body, that one day Wally would _recognise_ _him_, not as the mask everyone here was used to seeing but as _Bart_.

The mask.  
He wouldn't be wearing that much longer.  
His mouth felt dry as he looked at everyone again. He was standing here, in front of people who had accepted him, who _trusted_ him, and he was about to tell them that he'd pretty much done _nothing_ but _lie_ to them.  
He wasn't sure if he was ready for that.  
He threw Jaime a pleading glance, a _'Can I pull out of this? I'm not ready yet,' _, but got a stern look in reply. His friend's message was clear. _'You agreed to go through with this, no pulling out,'_.

He tried to focus on his breathing. In and out. In and out. His gaze flickered to the floor for a while before he looked up again, feeling determined. This was it, the mask was going to go away, and it wasn't going to be put on again. He wasn't Impulse anymore, he was _just_ Bart Allen. In and out. He looked at everyone, and the feeling of determination plummeted. What were they going to think when they found out the truth? Would they feel betrayed? Distrustful? Jaime had warned him that not telling them himself could be catastrophic, but what if telling them had the same effect? In and out. In and out.  
He could do this. _He could do this._ Just do it quickly, quick and easy just like a plaster. He could do this_._ They trusted him, they were his friends, they'd understand right? They'd _trusted _him, and he'd _lied_ to them. He could do this. He could do this.  
One more glance. Nightwing, Superboy, Miss Martian, Beast Boy, Wonder girl, Lagoon boy, Robin, Bumblebee, Mal, Jay, Joan, Granddad Barry, Granny Iris and Wally. He'd have given anything to know them and now he did and he had a chance to fix everything that had ever gone wrong, but he was _lying_ to them and he was going to _tell them that he'd been lying_ and then everything would be _okay _because _they'd still trust him._ Right?  
In and out. In and out. He could do this. He could do this. In and out.

_He couldn't do this._

"I'm-sorry-but-I-can't-do-this!" he blurted, unable to keep his voice at a normal pace. He sped out of the Hall of Justice as fast as he could. Not even sure where he was going, he just ran and ran and ran. Bart was barely aware of anything as he did so, he just knew that he need to _run._

* * *

There was a small plop as a chunk of rock hit the water. Sitting with his legs pulled up to his chest, Bart watched as the water rippled outwards and as the droplets misplaced by the rock flew up into the air, landing back on the surface and sending out more ripples. He could hear the crunch of footsteps over the rubble behind him and didn't react when the person sat down beside him, instead reaching for another chunk of rock and throwing it as far as he could. He watched blankly as the water rippled again. The person beside him took a deep breath, clearly looking for a way to start, or for whatever they were going to say.

"You don't need to say anything hermano, I know I messed up back there," Bart said. There was an audible click as his friend's mouth shut. It was quiet for a while, before Jaime spoke.

"We're gonna have to figure out what to tell them you know. They're going to be curious now," he said. Bart shrugged.

"I'll think of something,"

"You looked like you were feeling the mode back there. You okay?" Jaime asked. Bart shrugged. Again it was quiet.

"Hey Blue?" he asked.

"Yeah Impulse?"

"How about I leave the spanish to you, and you leave the future slang to me? 'Cause honestly, it sounded a bit stupid when you said it,"  
They both laughed a little.

"Deal," Jaime replied. Bart picked up another chunk of rock, this one slightly rounder and smoother that the others, and threw it. It skipped twice before sinking.  
"But, really Impulse, are you sure you're okay?"

The time travelling speedster sighed, before he shook his head.  
"Not really, no. To be honest, I'm feeling the mode. I was all set to let everyone know, and then I panicked, chickened out. How'm I supposed to save an entire timeline if I'm not even brave enough to tell the truth?"

"Well, you've been doing pretty well so far haven't you? You stopped the Flash from dying, and you stopped the Reach from getting the Scarab on mode didn't you?" Jaime asked.

"Well, I guess but..." Bart replied.

"No buts, Impulse. You're doing fine at saving the timeline. And you managed to tell me the truth didn't you? Just tell the others the same way," Jaime interrupted. Bart snorted.

"Blue, you were half dead and we were trying to escape a Reach ship. Somehow it seems unlikely that I'm gonna be able to tell the others the same way," he quipped. Jaime rolled his eyes.

"That wasn't meant to be taken literally. Just tell them when you're ready,"

It was quiet after that. Bart looked out over the waters of Happy Harbour Bay, listening to the gentle crash of the waves hitting the shore. He took in a deep breath of the salty air. It was ironic, he decided, that he was finding comfort in a place that held nothing but pain for him in his own timeline.

"Yeah, that would be crash," he said, turning his head and giving his friend a small smile. Jaime gave him one in return. In unison the two stood up, and Bart brushed the dirt and dust off of his uniform.

"So, what're you gonna tell them about the scarab?"

"I'll think of something," Jaime said with a shrug.  
"Want to go get some Chicken Whizees?"

"Only if you race me to El Paso," he replied.

"You're on," Jaime replied.

As they sped towards El Paso, Bart running and Jaime flying, a grin worthy of the Impulse Mask worked its way onto the speedsters face.  
And, for the first time for as long as he could remember, it was genuine.

* * *

**First things first. I am ****_so, so, so sorry_**** for not updating this sooner! I would have, but believe it or not the very next ****_day_**** after I finished writing this chapter my internet decided to die. For two weeks. I should've uploaded it the moment it was finished, but I tend to go back an make last minute edits and proof reading a day or so after I write something in case I missed anything. Again, ****_so sorry!_**

**Secondly, this is ****_not_**** how I expected the story to go at all. I tried to write Bart telling everyone and it just wouldn't be written. Everyone just stubbornly pushed their heels in and refused to be written in character. And thus, this happened. I hadn't even realised that Bart had left the HAll of Justice until I actually hadn't ****_written_**** it. It just happened. Sorry to anyone who wanted to see a reveal, but for some reason I couldn't get it written.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I do not own Young Justice.**

* * *

**So, the previous chapter of this fic was meant to be the last but being the scatterbrain that I am I forgot to change the story to 'complete' and left it that way for way too long. So, I decided I should probably do something to make it up to those of you who've been waiting for more. Here's what I came up with. I pretty much took all of Bart's flashbacks and expanded on them. Or something like that. I hope you enjoy!**

* * *

"Leave him alone! He's only a child!" Meloni yelled, running between the guards and the form of her three year old son. Bart just blinked up at her, completely unaware of the danger he had been in. He had yet to fully grasp the dangers of the world he lived in. She glanced over her shoulder at him, taking in his features as much as she could. She wanted a firm mental image of what her son looked like, because she probably wouldn't see him again after this.  
She turned back to the guards, barely believing she'd had enough time to memorise Bart's features, before taking a deep breath and steeling herself.

"I'll go with you if you leave him," she said, her voice flat and calm, with the barest hint of a waver betraying the storming ocean of emotions below the surface.

The guards looked to each other, conversing rapidly in the Reach tongue. This particular family had evaded them for many years, and even one member would be a prize. Besides, what harm could leaving the child do? It was very clearly young, and would be unable to look after itself sufficiently. They made their decision.

Meloni barely even cried out as the electricity surged through her body from the collar they clasped around her neck. Bart whimpered slightly as his mother fell over, and started to reach for her, only for his hands to be slapped away by the guards.

A short time later, when the guards were long gone, Don Allen would find his son staring blankly in the direction she had been taken. He would hug his son tightly, and when he found out what had happened, he would hug him even tighter.

Years later, Bart would barely be able to remember the events but for the final words he had heard his mother say; and though she had spoken them with only a hint of desperation, the barest waver of sadness, determined not to show weakness in front of the Reach, they would live on in Bart's head as screams of anguish.

* * *

A five year old Bart lay on his front on the floor of the abandoned house that they currently lived in, tongue sticking out in concentration and legs kicking behind him, drawing lines and shapes carefully on the blank sheet of paper with the black crayon. The paper itself wasn't the picture of a clean sheet, smudged with dirt from years worth of accumulation and singed at the edges, a whole corner burned away, but it being in as good condition as it was a near miracle in the wasteland. The same went for the crayon, which was in fact just over a stub.

Dawn sat nearby, watching her nephew with a smile. The sound of footsteps started to echo through the house, and Bart jerked up, his eyes widening with glee and a smile breaking out over his face.

"Daddy!" he squealed, on his feet in seconds and rushing to the door of the room – it was more of an archway really, being just the crumbling remains of the door_frame_ – just as Don came through, effectively tackling his father into a hug.

Don chuckled and lifted his son up.

"Hello Bart. Miss me?" he asked, eyes twinkling. Bart nodded rapidly, and Don used his free hand to still the rapidly wagging head.  
"Slow down a bit, your head's going to fall off at that rate," he told his son. Bart giggled, and hugged him again. Then, in the way that only five year olds can manage, he changed his mind in under a second as was demanding to be let down. Don complied and Bart sped over to the sheet of paper immediately, picking it up and presenting it to his father.

"That's you, and me, and Mummy"he explained, pointing tothree stick figures in the middle of the sheet. One of them was taller than the other two, another had a series of squiggly lines on its head which Don assumed was hair and a triangular body, and the third was shorter than the other two, effectively making it easy to tell which one was which.  
"An' that's granny and granddad and Auntie Dawn and Wally!" Bart continued, pointing to another four stick figures which were in fact, identical to the first two but it was obvious that Bart had been trying hard to make them look different to each other. Finally, Bart pointed to a large area on the top of the paper that had been separated from the rest with a line and a series of triangles drawn along the bottom."That's green grass and a big blue sky like in your stories!"  
Bart frowned for a moment.

"I didn't have any blue or green," he explained, before zipping over to Dawn and presenting the drawing to her as well.

Don watched his son fondly, and yet a sense of dread grew inside him. He feared the day that Bart would be fully exposed to the horrors of the world, and that that joy and innocence would be lost.

* * *

"Daddy?" Bart whispered, shaking his father's arm.

"Yes Bart?" Don asked groggily, opening his sleep clogged eyes to look at his son.

"Tell me a story?"

Don sighed, but pushed himself up into a cross-legged sitting position.

"A story about what?"

Even in the dark of the room, the way Bart's eyes lit up was visible.

"About _Wally,"_ he whispered, uttering the name with near reverence.  
"About Wally and the _Team,_"

And with a good natured sigh, Don pulled his son and began regaling his son with one of the stories that he himself had been told when he was younger.

* * *

"Do you think we'll see him again?" Dawn asked, looking to her brother. They were sat on the ground just outside the abandoned house, Bart just in front of them, gazing up at the sky in wonder. Usually, they wouldn't leave a hideout unless absolutely necessary but tonight was an exception.

The stars were out.

Stars were a very rare thing to see anymore, what with the pollution and everything blocking out the sky most of the time, but when they _were_ they were beautiful; small pinpricks of light dancing across a navy blue-black sea.

"I honestly don't know Dawn," he told her, sighing as he did so.  
"It's just...no one's ever escaped from the camps before. I've always thought that if anyone could it'd be him but...it's been a _year_ Dawn, a whole _year_ without him," he pressed his palms to his forehead.  
"I just...I honestly _don't know,_"

"You're _giving up_ on him?" her voice was horrified.  
"Don, it's _Wally! Y_ou can't be _giving _up on him!"

Neither twin had ever known their father and Wally had stepped in to help their mother, filling in the spot for father figure as they grew up, even under the grim shadow of the Reach.

"I'm _not,_" Don insisted.

"It _sounded_ like you were,"

Before the argument could progress further, there was a loud thump behind them. The two turned rapidly, their inherent super speed kicking in. The moment their brains processed what they saw they were on their feet, forming a protective barrier between Bart and the figure in front of them, two simple words ripping themselves simultaneously from their throats.

"BART! RUN!"

The five year old had seen the scene unfold, a kind of horror dawning on his face, because unlike all those years ago when he had been in a similar position with his mother, he understood exactly what was going on.

The command from his father and Auntie registered, and panic near over took his mind.

Bart ran.

Then the fact that his dad and Auntie Dawn were in danger kicked in, and he veered around sharply. Running as fast as he could, the five year old slammed into the hulking armoured form of Blue Beetle.

Unfortunately, the only effect it had was that it knocked him unconscious.

* * *

With a groan and a throbbing head, Bart opened his eyes and looked around. The events came rushing back to him and he jerked up rapidly, leading to a sharp jab of pain to rocket through his already sore head and his vision went a combination of blurry, spotty and blank.

"Easy there, kiddo. You really did a number on yourself you know," a voice reassured, accompanying a pair of strong arms holding him up and supporting him until the dizzy spell passed.

Bart blinked his vision clear, before turning to look at who it was.

"Wally?" he asked.

He remembered his cousin, though some of the memories were fuzzy as he'd been four when Wally'd given himself up to protect the rest of them. He remembered Dad and Auntie Dawn being really weird for weeks afterwards, he'd felt pretty similar. Even if he hadn't remembered what his cousin looked like, not recognising him would be near impossible, his dad was really good at descriptions.

"Yeah. You feeling okay, Bart?" Wally replied, drawing his hands back and letting the five year old support himself.

Wally looked different to last time Bart had seen him. He looked...older. That was given of course, it'd been a year, but his face looked like it had aged even more than that.

"I...I think," he said, before realising with a jolt that his dad and Auntie Dawn were nowhere to be found.  
"Where did they take them? My dad and Auntie Dawn? Where are they?"

Wally seemed hesitant to answer, before eventually taking a deep breath and shaking his head.

"I don't know kiddo...I don't know..." he said eventually, not really meeting Bart's eyes. Delivering that news was not something anyone wanted to do.

_What?_ Tears welled up in Bart's eyes, his mind repeating the words over and over. Before he knew it, he was clutching onto his cousin and sobbing.

"I never...I never even...even got to...to say goodbye!"

* * *

The sky was grey. The earth was grey. Everything was grey.

Nowadays, we'd find that a bit worrying, wouldn't we? But for two figures trudging through this landscape, an elder and a younger, it was normal, they were used to it; the elder through years of seeing nothing but, the younger because it was all he had ever known.

Both carry heavy loads, their clothing is faded and old, and a black collar around both of their necks.

"Wally?" the younger asked, looking up to his cousin. He shifted the load in his arms a bit, to make the weight a bit easier.  
"Wally?" he tried again.  
"What do I do if the collar ever comes off?"

It was a question he had wondered about for a very long time. He remembered, if faintly and fuzzily, a time before the collar, when he had been fast. That was when he was with his Dad and Auntie Dawn, before the camp.

Wally seemed to straighten a bit at the question. He glanced around quickly to make sure that no guards were nearby, before kneeling down to level with Bart, putting down his load and placing his hands firmly on the younger's shoulders.

"Bart," he said, his voice quite possible the most serious Bart had ever heard him be.  
"If that collar ever comes off, you need to run _as fast as you can,_"

Bart blinked at his cousin, tilting his head slightly. He could run quite fast, but he couldn't out run the guards or Blue Beetle. Why would the collar being off make that different? Distant memories of speed answered him in his mind.

"As fast as I can?" he asked, wondering if his cousin would clarify a bit more.

"Yeah, and as far as you can as well," He said, before removing his hands from Bart's shoulders, lifting up his load again and standing. Bart thought about what his cousin had said for a moment. Run as fast as he could if the collar ever came off. He could do that. Run as far as he could? He could do that too. He wasn't sure _why_ he'd be able to do that without being caught, as Wally's tone had suggested, but he shrugged it off. Wally had never been wrong before. He trusted him.

He gave his cousin a smile, not the face splitting ear-to-ear kind he would grow up to use as a mask but a small one, the corners of his mouth curling up just a bit, but the smile reaching his eyes more than the mask ones ever would; the kind of smile Bart Allen had always had.

"Okay Wally!"

* * *

Grey, still grey, always grey. Two figures are trudging through the grey, carrying heavy loads. This may seem familiar, but it's not the same scene.

Suddenly, the elder stumbles and drops his load, tripping over a rock and falling. The younger is by his side in seconds. The elder groans in pain.

"Wally!" Bart near yells, shaking his cousin to try and stay awake.  
"Wally, you need to get up! Don't shut your eyes! Get up!"

Wally looks to Bart, mouths a single word. _Sorry._ His eyes start to close.

"No! Don't shut your eyes!"

His eyes shut.

"Wally! Wally, wake up! Don't leave me Wally! I need you!" Bart starts yelling. He's attracting attention, he knows, but he doesn't care.  
"Wake up! Wake up! Don't you dare leave! WALLY!"

He yells and yells, but his cousin doesn't respond.

He starts screaming.

"WALLY! DON'T DIE ON ME! WAKE UP!"

Guards have rushed over, seizing him by the arms. He pulls and struggles against them, trying not to let them pull him away from his cousin.

"NO! DON'T MAKE ME LEAVE HIM!" he yells, thrashing against them. He manages to scream his cousin's name a few more times, before the electricity surges through him from the collar and his world goes black.

* * *

At eleven years old, Bart Allen had lost everyone.

At thirteen he goes back in time, and gets them all back, almost anyways.

This time, he won't lose them again.

* * *

**Again, I'm really sorry for taking so long with this!**


End file.
